Chapter Text
The emergency room refrigerator emitted its usual dull hum, accompanied by the intermittent sound of shoes on the linoleum. The fluorescent lights flickered imperceptibly.
Will Halstead was finishing yet another double shift. His scrubs were rumpled and he had a tired expression on his face.
He took off his latex gloves, tossing them in the red biohazard bin, and stretched his neck. He had just finished stitching up a lacerated wound on a homeless man brought in by a paramedic just before dawn.
- Will, stop for a second. - Connor Rhodes's voice reached him as he was about to leave the room. He was leaning against the cart, the ultrasound results still in his hand.
Will turned, tired but present.
- Tell me, Connor.-
- You have dark circles under your eyes like those of a horror movie. Are you on your third double shift in a row? -
Will smiled.
- Second. And a half. -
Connor studied him for a few seconds.
- You need sleep. A brilliant mind is useless if it collapses while operating.-
Will shrugged.
- I sleep as much as I can. Coffee and energy bars do the rest.-
Connor didn’t insist. But as Will walked away, he watched him go with a slight frown.
In the hallway, he passed Maggie with a stack of files under her arm.
- Still here? - Maggie said, passing him in the hallway with a stack of files under her arm.
Will smiled.
- You know how it is… between bills, rent, and student loans, extra shifts are my favorite sport.-
Maggie raised her eyebrows.
- At least tell me you ate.-
Will lifted a half-unwrapped energy bar from his pocket.
- Does it count? -
She shook her head, then patted him on the shoulder.
- Be careful, Halstead. Money helps, but if you collapse in front of a patient, we’ll fire you.-
Will smiled a little wider this time.
- I appreciate the thoughtfulness, boss.-
Will smiled a little wider this time. He wasn't happy working so much, but he did it with a clear purpose: to get his finances in order, to regain some stability. He wasn't the most organized doctor in the Med, but he cared. He had learned to get by with little sleep and a lot of coffee.
He was about to head for the locker room when his pager vibrated.
"Goodwin's office. Now."
Will sighed.
- It's about that forgotten form, I bet... - he thought to himself as he walked up the floors.
Director Sharon Goodwin's office.
- Dr. Halstead - he director greeted him with a calm but determined expression. - Have a seat. -
Will entered and sat down in front of the desk, slightly tense. He sat down, slightly tense.
- If it's about those transfusion papers, I swear I signed them. -
- It's not about the forms, relax. -Goodwin leaned against the desk. - It's about you... and your shifts. I heard you've been working five extra shifts in ten days.-
- It's not forbidden, is it? - he joked, though not strictly so.
- No, but it's worrying. Especially when I know you work holidays, take on night shifts, and you've been here 26 hours today. -
Will held up his hands.
- I'm keeping busy. And I need to settle a few accounts. But it's all under control. It's not just a passion for adrenaline. I need to settle a few accounts. -
Goodwin nodded.
- I understand and appreciate commitment. Dedication is commendable. But when it starts to harm you, it's no longer dedication, it's escape. -
Will stiffened for a moment. Then he looked away.
- Escape from what? I'm just working. -
- I know, but that's exactly why I thought of you. -
Will looked at her, puzzled.
- For... what exactly? -
- There's a medical conference in Fairford, near Rockford. We'll be talking about case management in multiple emergencies, and they want someone to share the experience of a metropolitan hospital under pressure. Maggie suggested you, and I approved. -
Will leaned back in his chair and laughed nervously.
- A conference? Speaker? Me? I'm not really one for the stage. - He disssed.
Exactly why. You're direct, concrete, expert, no academic posturing. You're leaving tomorrow, but I'd like you to go tonight. Sleep there, relax a bit, arrive fresh. -
- It's a trap to get me to rest, right? -
- It's a chance to show off your worth and take a break. Take it however you want. -
Will smiled, sincerely this time.
- Okay. But no deluxe room, I hope. I'd feel guilty, too indebted. -
Mrs. Goodwin laughed. - I got you a regular room. No spa, no memory foam pillows. And yes, you can come back right after your presentation. -
Will took the folder with the details.
All right. At least I get away from my peeping zone for 48 hours. -
- Please, and maybe you actually sleep. Thanks, Will.
- Halstead House - A few hours later..
Jay had returned from a tactical training session and was still in his partial uniform. He was folding a department T-shirt when Will entered. The two brothers exchanged a quick glance in the silence.
The TV was off, the light warm, the beer open on the table, and the house was quiet, silent.
The evenings they both had free could be counted on one hand.
- Did they kick you out of Med? - Jay asked, pouring himself a glass of water.
- No, but... almost. Mrs. Goodwin sent me to a conference tomorrow in Fairford. -
Jay explained, leaning against the counter and asking, surprised,
- Uh, a speaking conference? -
- Yeah, a ten-minute presentation. Simple stuff, but I'm leaving soon. She wants me out of here before I collapse.-
- Are you okay?- Jay asked seriously. -You've been working so hard, even by your standards. -
Will simply nodded.
- Yeah, I'm fine, a little tired, but I've got everything under control. Don't worry about me. -
Jay sat down and asked, - Are you going? Just like that, without a fight? -
- I pretended to protest, but really... a bed, a relaxing night, I don't mind. -
Jay studied him for a second. Then he relaxed. - Okay. But text me when you get there.. -
- Sure, and if it goes badly, I'll be back early! - he exclaimed.
The two greeted each other with a pat on the shoulder and a subtle smile. There wasn't much need for words between them; just being there was enough.
Fairford - Late evening.
The town seemed to be asleep in the light rain.
Will parked in front of the hotel, a three-story building with a faded neon sign. Nothing special, but decent enough.
He checked in, which was quick enough. Room 203, the single bed, the clean bathroom, basically everything he needed.
He went up to his room, took off his shoes, and collapsed on the bed for a few seconds.
After a shower, he opened his laptop to look at the slides he would be presenting: nothing complicated. Recounting cases, showing data, just clinical experiences and operational strategies, talking about triage stress, stuff he knew by heart.
He could still feel the adrenaline from his shifts. He lay in bed unable to fall asleep.
So he decided to get up and, putting on his light jacket, went out for some fresh air.
The street was deserted, the air smelled of wet earth and gasoline. Some shops were already closed, a restaurant still lit in the distance.
He walked slowly along the sidewalk, enjoying the silence. Then, suddenly, the sound of footsteps behind him.
He turned, alarmed, but saw no one. Instinct made him speed up, but it was useless.
A sharp blow to his temple shocked him and made him stagger. Everything around him went blurry, and he fell onto the wet, icy asphalt. He felt hands rummaging through him, his watch strap being torn, his wallet, his cell phone.
Then silence, solitude, cold, rain, darkness.